/ 542 words.He resigned himself to wait ten, maybe fifteen minutes for someone to answer before returning to Fox and continuing on their way. Nothing about this situation struck him as particularly threatening, but one could never be too sure. One of his typical mantras was better safe than sorry' which never failed to annoy Fox when she was getting particularly antsy about something or other, but his caution had saved their hides from a few bad spots more times than he cared to think about at the present. The hybrid stepped up onto the curb, leaned against a rusting chain-link fence, and crossed his arms in an idle manner. Jackal wasn't the type to fidget unnecessarily. As a matter of fact, his marble statue impression was remarkably good... or so Fox said when she was trying to be particularly irritating.
But no sooner had he begun to distract himself by counting the cracks in the pavement did the distinct rumble of hoof-beats alert him to the approach of another from inside the pack boundary. His ears flicked forward as he pushed himself off the fence which gave a metallic jingle as it vibrated from the sudden movement. He did his best to seem presentable but entirely unassuming for whoever was going to appear out of those woods; he didn't want to raise any ire, but he knew from experience that many wolves didn't take too kindly to dogs, even dog hybrids. But he was momentarily distracted from this train of thought when his eyes caught a flash of movement that quickly materialized into a Luperci seated on the back of a large horse; the animal wasn't wearing tack, which struck him as a completely useless thing to notice as far as first encounters are concerned.
Jack lifted his gaze to get a better look at the woman seated atop the mare, but was conscious not to meet her gaze. Her dominant posture and the lack of nervous tremble in her voice told him that she was, indeed, one of the higher ranked members of this pack—Cercatori d'Arte, and she was heavily pregnant at that. Jack was not necessarily concerned with that fact (though he would later remember after he finished picking up the pieces of his carefully constructed interrogation plan from the pavement), but rather the name that passed her lips. Katruk. Sky Katruk.
He blinked once, twice, and then spoke. Sky Katruk. Related to a Dusk Katruk, by chance? Fox would be delighted at his find, but Jack only looked up at Sky with a reserved expression. He wasn't entirely sure what to think; this was Fox's area of expertise, dealing with people that is. He was thankful that his brain hadn't taken this time to blue screen at this sudden discovery. A small, furry head poked out of a saddlebag and he directed his attention to the small bobcat with a quirk of his brow. However, he didn't comment.
Realizing he should probably introduce himself before he scared her off with his considerably forward question, he reached a dark hand up in an amiable gesture. Jackal Katruk, but I go by Jack to most folk. He offered by means of breaking the ice, if any had formed to begin with.
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